PhilConsequence's blog

Sometimes its nice to be distracted by something random.....

2009-09-25T09:01:11Z

I know this is completely off topic... but sometimes i find it really therapeutic to distract myself from constantly assessing, worrying, planning and get the old brain juices flowing with something thought provoking, this piece of text has stunned me each time i read it... the fact it is also poetic is always a bonus :)

i hope i havent revealed the secret hippy inside by posting this!

American Indian, Chief Seattle, wrote to President Franklin Pierce in 1854...

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us.

If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of this earth is sacred to my people। Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.

The sap which courses through the trees carries the memories of the red man. The white man's dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it is the mother of the red man. We are part of the earth and it is a part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the deer, the horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony, and man--all belong to the same family.

So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us. The Great Chief sends word he will reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children. So we will consider your offer to buy our land.

But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us.This shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you land, you must remember that it is sacred, and you must teach your children that it is sacred and that each ghastly reflection in the clear water of the lake tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our canoes, and feed our children.

If we sell you our land, you must remember, and teach your children that the rivers are our brothers, and yours, and you must henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother.We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his fathers' graves and his children's birthright is forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert. I do not know.

Our ways are different from your ways. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage and does not understand.There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insect's wings. But perhaps it is because I am a savage and do not understand. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night? I am a red man and do not understand. The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of a pond, and the smell of the wind itself, cleansed by rain or scented with the pine cone.

The air is precious to the red man, for all things share the same breath: the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath. The white men, they all share the same breath. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench. But if we sell you our land, you must remember that the air is precious to us, that the air gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow's flowers.

So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept I will make one condition. The white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers.I am savage and I do not understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and I do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important that the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive.What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected.

You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of our grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth.

Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.Even the white man, whose God walks and talks with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny.

We may be brothers after all. We shall see. One thing we know, which the white man may one day discover---our God is the same God. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land; but you cannot. He is the God of man and his compassion is equal for the red man and the white. The earth is precious to him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt upon its Creator. The Whites, too, shall pass; perhaps sooner than all other tribes. Contaminate your bed and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. But in your perishing, you will shine brightly, fired by the strength of the God who brought you to this land and for some special purpose gave you dominion over this land and over the red man.

That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not understand when the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted out by talking wires...

Where is the thicket? Gone.

Where is the eagle? Gone.

Thoughts from behind the frontline - 2

2009-07-27T09:39:09Z

In my last blog I rambled on for ages about going out and living life while you can as none of us know when our time is up, whether you've been given an idea of an end date or if you're Jo Blogs walking down the street.... Something I've realised on reflection is that I spoke of my dad as a bit of a hero for having the courage to take his own advice and life for his dreams.... BUT something I neglected to mention in my blog is the fact that if you're reading this, then you're all heros in your own rights!! Some define heroism as: "A hero is a person who momentarily loses his sense of self preservation for the good and well being of others without any promise of reward" "Someone who puts their lives at risk to save/help others without any thought or fear of their own lives." We all have our own definitions of heros, some people worship filmstars, footballers, musicians.... some people have a deep seated respect for the nurses/firemen/lifeguards who risk their lives everyday.... up until very recently I was foolish enough to declare that I did not hero-worship, or really have any heros at all, how rediculous of me! I am very very happy to admit in this public setting that I was wrong and I've always had heros, just been too proud to admit it. I believe you don't have to "win" to be a hero, to use a football analogy - Man United play against Heatherside Under 12s.... Man United win 15-2 but Heatherside are the heros for stepping on the pitch let alone getting those 2 goals. Having the courage to fight the fight, step into battle or however you see your approach to your relationship with cancer... is amazing, fullstop. no arguments. If you're fighting to win or just fighting to live then you've already won in my humble eyes! Some people's biggest heros are the people they love for the smallest things they do to make their world that little bit more beautiful... I think we all know someone or have known someone who does this, wether its Mozart, David Beckham, your wife/husband, your kids or a babies laugh :) Joseph Cambell attempted to define love and came up with something along the lines of: Love is when you unconciously neglect the most basic human instinct of self-preservation and are willing to sacrifice yourself for another. (sounds familiar to the definition of hero yeah?) On this forum I read a lot of love (heroism) everyday; from the people posting jokes to keep up moral to the concerned family members searching for the best way to be there for someone... to love that much means you're a hero, not only in my eyes but I'm confident in the eyes of everyone else... even if we dont say it to each other out loud. So to all of you on here: The families The friends The nurses The patients You are all heros and I couldnt respect you all more.

Thoughts from behind the frontline - 1

2009-07-23T08:17:45Z

Ok, this is a bit surreal, long story short: Both Dad and fiance Tgirl already post blogs on here so I dont need to go into any detail about whats happening to who and where and why and when... I joked in an email that i'd start writing a blog as dad's were too popular and as competitive as I'm tempted to be, this isn't for that reason. Writing as any therapist will tell you is cathartic, some write poetry, some write songs, some write letters to people just to tear them up.... purely becuase its good sometimes to just write. Before I get into a load of waffle iI just wanted to get this first bit in writing: I love my dad, its hard knowing hes got cancer, its hard being a nurse and knowing there's not much I can do to help, but those are my feelings to deal with.... what's important to stress is that I've never been prouder or in such awe of a person as I have since dad found out. He spent 24 years teaching me the most important thing in my life and I couldnt respect him more for taking his own advice (something we all struggle to do i think at times). I'll explain.... Sometimes things happen in life that change you: Ideally this should be EVERYTHING that happens to you. Throughout my short life I've been lucky enough to experience some incredible things, both extrememly bad and good... I'd like to think that becuase of my parents i've grown from every situation. A while ago I wrote the lyrics to a song, this was inspired by the recent deaths of a couple of close friends.... "The fallen comrades, Show you how, Cos the time is now, Regrets mean nothing, All the decisions you’ve made, Make you who you are. As time moves on, live life while you can. Tomorrow holds no promise; it’s in your hands." With every day that I move towards the inevitable end of my own life (could be in 100 years, could be 100 seconds for all I know) the words above mean more to me than the day before. This whole "live life" thing has been a bit of a theme for me since I was a kid, I was lucky enough to be brought up believing I could do anything if I tried hard enough (except levitate by eating apple slices as I quickly found out after boasting to my friends I could (after doing so in a dream haha)). Some people have been brought up to believe they have to fit into neat little boxes, black and white boxes created by the wishes of their parents, friends, government/society... this is (to me anyway) and incredibly alien concept that gos against the very fact we're all individuals and there is no such thing as right or wrong, only popular opinion. Little Johnny wants to be an accountant like his dad.. cool, little johnny wants to be the worlds first flying accountant made out of jelly.... f**king cool, little Johnny wants to be an artist but has to be an accountant cos daddy thinks its best.... not cool. We all have dreams and "life" in modern western culture manages to slowly batter them out of you, its easy to convince yourself its the mature way of living, after all, there are bills, council tax, rent and other peoples opinions to worry about! But underneath all this is that unsettling "I could have been more!" feeling that you can either keep trapped away from the ever decreasing sense of real-life; or you can let it out and go experience something you never thought you could! Even if its something small like throwing popcorn in the cinema or jumping in a puddle.. if its fun, do it! Recently I've watched people grow into beautiful bright humans amongst a world that appears to get greyer everyday... this is entirely down to them using an inner strength and direction not found before and having the guts to follow their dreams. It's amazing to watch and even more amazing to be part of. I couldnt be prouder of them all. I know I am not the only one who feels this way about living life. Anyone who's jumped out of a plane or off a bridge, applied for that dream job, spoken to that dream girl, and some that have been diagnosed with something that spells out an end date... all know in one way or another what i'm talking about.... But why do we have to wait until our options are cut short to make a decision to stop being a cog in societies neatly oiled machine? I'm sure my dad would be proud of me for chasing my dreams at ANY stage of my life.... not so proud if I ticked along with a rubbish life until my health starts failing me! Why do we have to wait until someone's ill to realise its worth valueing the time we spend with them? Why do we have to supress that natural sense of adventure and the dreams of youth? We dont! It doesnt even have to be a choice thats made, just a realisation that that lifes as important and fun as you make it. If you love music, go watch the band live. If you love someone, tell them. If you want to follow your dream, do it. lets cut out that first part so it reads: "Regrets mean nothing, All the decisions you’ve made, Make you who you are. As time moves on, live life while you can. Tomorrow holds no promise; it’s in your hands." It's very easy to blame the rest of the world or the cancer itself... but i personally feel its worth remembering: only you can make the choice to let it change you for the better or for the worse... Personal strength through self-awareness. "follow your dream", "say yes", however you want to word it: Live life while you can... for yourself, as well as the people you love and who love you. Phil x